


But Some Things Remain The Same

by lovingsmutandfluff



Series: Changed [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Anal Sex, Blood, Bondage, Broken!Sam, But people die, Dark, Death, Forced Orgasm, Forced Relationship, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Plugs, Public Humiliation, Public Sex, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killer Dean, Torture, Well - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, but i want everything down, but to no major characters, dark wincest, evil!Dean, no characters that are actually part of the SPN universe, poor sammy, still not a happy ending for Sammy, there are a lot of tags, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-22
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 05:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2178957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingsmutandfluff/pseuds/lovingsmutandfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has been with Dean for six months, with no chance of escape. Now, he has a chance to escape and hide. But will Sam be able to stay hidden from the one person that never wants him to leave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wooo, I finally made the second part. My internet crapped out over the past few days, which gave me time to write this. It's very dark. It can be very triggering. I know there are a lot of tags, but I'm making sure that everything is there.  
> All mistakes are my own. The fic is dark, twisted. And I hope you enjoy.

Sam was sitting on the couch, trying to immerse himself in another book. He had already gone through three, and the closer the time grew for Dean to return home, the more on edge Sam was.

For the past six months, Sam has been with Dean in this house, stuck. Trapped. A prisoner.

Sure, Dean may not be home right now. He may be at his job, but Sam knew better than to leave. He was certain that Dean had set up something to alert him if Sam tried to escape. And even if he did ran, Dean would find him.

Sam had learned that lesson six months ago.

 

So Sam sat in the house, waiting for Dean. Wondering how Dean would want it tonight.

He wondered when Dean would allow him around civilization again. Sam considered it a treat when Dean did actually allow him out around people. He was more wary now though, keeping an eye on anyone that might remotely be looking at him in a way that would make Dean’s blood boil.

Dean thought that Sam didn’t know, but Sam could always tell when Dean had killed someone.

Dean always smelled like death.

 

What Sam really wondered though, was if Dean would allow him to get a job. Sam was going crazy, sitting, doing nothing. He wasn’t sure what Dean would say now.

When Sam tried the first few months he was stuck he, Dean got upset, asking if Sam thought that Dean caring for him wasn’t good enough. If Sam thought that Dean was doing a shitty job.

It had taken Sam about a half an hour, trying to convince Dean otherwise (though Sam knew that this _wasn’t_ how you cared for family. But Sam wasn’t going to tell Dean that), and then Dean had fucked Sam afterwards.

Ever since, Sam just tried to keep Dean on the happy side, trying to keep him from killing people, not have any more blood spilt because of him.

 

Sam heard the Impala in the driveway and he gave a small whimper, looking at the door fearfully, before covering his fear in a façade.

Sam had learned that Dean would cuddle and sooth Sam when he saw that Sam was scared or uncomfortable, and if cuddles and his ‘soothing’ words didn’t work, then Dean turned to sedatives to help Sam.

He went back to ‘reading’ his book, listening to the footsteps outside and the door opening. Sam looked up and saw Dean walk in, eyes focusing on Sam, and smiling brightly.

Sam’s stomach churned.

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean said, shutting the door, walking over to Sam and straddling his lap, tossing the book to the side. “I missed you, baby.”

“Hey, Dean.” Sam said, heart beat starting to race as Dean’s hands started to roam. _You don’t want this. Never have. Never will._ Those three sentences got him through a lot over these past six months.

“God, Sam.” Dean said, burying his face in Sam’s neck, inhaling the scent of his brother. “You were all I could think about at work. How you’d be home, waiting for me. Mmmh, I missed you.” He nipped lightly at Sam’s neck, and Sam’s breathing stuttered lightly.

Dean caught it and pulled back, giving a smile. Sam felt some relief wash through him, seeing that Dean read the gesture as one of excitement, instead of one of fear.

“You excited, huh?” Dean asked. He got off of Sam, pulling off his clothes. “Come on Sammy, clothes off, baby.”

Sam obeyed, feeling a little hollow inside. He usually did when Dean fucked him. When his clothes were off, Dean turned him, and Sam kneeled on the couch, gripping the back. He closed his eyes, trying to find a mindspace that he could escape to. Dean shoved his fingers in Sam’s mouth, and Sam sucked, running his tongue over Dean’s fingers and slightly tasting motor oil.

When Dean pulled his fingers back, he started opening Sam up, free hand wrapping around Sam’s cock, stroking it, and Sam knew, without having to look, that his cock was betraying him.

With Dean’s hand working on him, and Dean’s fingers working in him, angling so that they could brush against his prostate, Sam’s mouth opened, and he let out a small whimper, hands gripping the couch tighter.

“Don’t worry Sammy. I’m gonna be inside you soon enough.” Dean said. Dean pressed a kiss on Sam’s neck, nipping, licking, and sucking lightly.

 

When Dean deemed Sam open enough, he used his own spit to lube his cock up, running the head across Sam’s fluttering hole a few times.

Sam bit his lip, the pace of Dean’s hand not slowing on his cock.

 _You don’t want this. Never have. Never will_.

But Sam wanted this to be over with.

“Dean…”

“Don’t worry, Sammy.” Dean said, head of his cock catching on the rim. He started to push in and Sam’s eyes open, feeling Dean’s cock stretch him.

When Dean bottomed out, he gave a few thrusts, rolling his hips, and Sam made a quiet noise when Dean hit his sweet spot.

“There we go.” Dean praised quietly. He started thrusting, working Sam’s cock over in time with the thrusts. Dean’s thumb ran across the top of Sam’s cockhead, smearing the pre-come that was starting to appear. His other hand latched onto Sam’s shoulder, as he panted and groaned, fucking Sam.

Sam grunted, the urge to come getting stronger with every thrust, every stroke of his cock.

_You don’t want this. Never have. Never will. You don’t want this. You don’t want this._

“God, Sam. You always feel so good. So tight for me. So warm. Fuck.” Dean growled. Sam was glad he was facing away from Dean, so Dean didn’t see the look of disgust he had on his face. For Dean. For himself.

_You don’t want this. You don’t want this._

“Gonna have you all filled up with my come. Gonna be dripping out of you. Maybe I should plug you up, then use it to fuck you later tonight.

_You don’t want this. You don’t want this. You don’t want this._

“Dean…” Sam panted.

“Right here baby brother. I’m right here.” Dean said, hand quickening on Sam’s cock. “Want you to come before I do. Want to feel you squeeze around my cock. Milk it for everything it’s got.”

_You don’t want this. You don’t want this. You don’t wa-_

Sam’s brain stopped working when he came.

 

Dean grunted and gave a few fast thrusts before he came inside of Sam, and he stilled, cock still in Sam’s ass.

“Gonna have to clean the couch.” Dean chuckled. Sam looked down and saw the mess that he’d made. Dean’s hand was still wrapped around the base of Sam’s limp cock. “Get on your hands and knees, Sam.” Dean said.

Sam moved silently, shoving his ass up in the air, and he pressed his face into the couch, listening to Dean walk off into the bedroom.

A minute later he returned, and Sam felt him starting to work a butt plug in.

It was short and stumpy, so Sam figured it was the red one Dean liked using.

When the plug was seated in Sam’s ass, Dean gave Sam’s butt a pat. “Up and at ‘em, Sammy. Gotta clean the couch from your mess. Then we can get dressed and eat some dinner.” Dean said.

 

Sam put his brain on auto-pilot, as he worked with Dean. It was over and done with for the moment, and he didn’t want to think about his part in the whole thing.

Dinner came and Dean cooked a nice meal, seeming how they had an actual stove and oven.

“Mmh, think a shopping day is in order soon.” Dean said. Sam looked up at Dean hopefully. If he could get out and away from this house for a little while...

“Really?” Sam asked. “Do…do you want help for a grocery list?” If Sam had the possibility of getting his foot in the door…

“Yeah, I think that’ll be nice.” Dean smiled, happy that his brother wanted to help him with something.

Sam gave a small smile. If he helped with the grocery list, he may be able to help with the shopping too because he knew Dean wouldn’t be able to find all of the food at the store. Sam thought about asking Dean if he could take up a job, maybe one with Dean (as much as he didn’t want to do that), but Sam decided that the victory with the grocery was enough for the moment.

Dean cooked and they ate in almost silence, with Dean commenting about work every now and then.

Sam shifted slightly from time to time, trying to find a comfortable place to sit with the plug inside him. He felt the plug shift around, and he gave a small sigh, giving up and settling into a somewhat comfortable position.

 

That night, Dean took his time fucking Sam. It was loving and sweet, for Dean, but practically torture for Sam, who just wanted to sleep, and try to stay away from the nightmares that often visited now.

Sam learned that with his nightmares, he would sometimes whimper, or even worse, wake up screaming.

And Dean would be there, trying to comfort him, which only made Sam feel worse, not that he let Dean onto that.

 

When Dean finally came and settled for the night, Sam went to the bathroom, cleaning himself up in disgust, trying to keep the urge to puke as he cleaned out Dean’s come.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get all of it tonight. Dean liked to press close to Sam during the night, so if Sam wasn’t out there soon, Dean would go looking for him.

So he cleaned what he could, and went back to bed, turning away from Dean, and trying to sleep as well as he could.

 

Bobby looked at his phone, just sitting on the table. He thought back to the last conversation that he had with Sam.

_Sam, we’re gonna find you._

That’s what he had said. That’s what he had promised.

That was six fucking months ago. And there hasn’t been a trace of Sam or Dean ever since.

Bobby ran a hand through his hair, and looked over at the bottle of whiskey he had on his desk, before picking it up and taking a swig.

He let Sam down. That’s what he did. Every day that Sam isn’t safe, that’s what he’s done. Let Sam down.

“I’m sorry, boy.” He murmured to the empty room. “I’m gonna find you if it’s the last fucking thing I do on this goddamned planet.”

 

The next day, Dean helped Sam get cleaned up from yesterday’s activities, much to Sam’s discomfort.

Dean didn’t want to fuck Sam, so Sam got the some peace from that.

“Wanna start on that food list, Sammy? I don’t have to be at work until noon today, so the sooner we can get grocery shopping out of the way, the better.”

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam said, sitting down with Dean, who had a pad of paper and a pen, ready to write down what Sam said.

 

When the list was done, Dean studied it quietly. Sam held his breath, wondering if Dean would let him go with him on the food run.

“Hey, Sammy. Do you think that you can help me find some of this?” Dean asked, looking up at Sam.

Sam kept his joy to a low, not wanting to alert Dean to his happiness of getting out and away from the house.

“Sure, Dean. If you think you need my help.” Sam gave a soft smile, which Dean returned enthusiastically.

“Alright, how about we get ready, and we can hit the road?” Dean asked, moving over to Sam and pulling him up. “Come on.” He kissed Sam lightly on the lips, and dragged him back to the bedroom.

 

Sam tried to get ready and dress quickly, but Dean moved in quickly, touching here, caressing there. He fondled Sam’s cock and balls a few times, but finally left Sam to dress in the end.

They drove off to town, with Dean singing to some of his tunes, and Sam quietly happy that he was getting a chance to be out in the fresh air.

 

Someone was watching Sam, Sam could tell. He was keeping a wary eye on the man. By the way that the man was moving, the way the man would look over at him and Dean, Sam knew that this person wasn’t interested in his looks.

But if Dean knew that the man was looking, he wouldn’t care. All he would realize was that someone was looking at Sam, and Dean would be out for blood.

Luckily enough though, Dean was too distracted looking at food to notice the man. But Sam noticed and he was growing increasingly uncomfortable.

“Sammy! Is this the stuff you were talking about?” Dean asked, pulling Sam’s focus towards the box that Dean was holding.

“No, Dean.” Sam sighed, moving to help his brother find the right food.

 

Dean brought Sam to a fast food place, grabbing some grub before they headed back to the house to put away groceries.

Sam saw a glimpse of the man from the store again, heading into the restroom, and he looked over at Dean.

“Dean, I gotta use the restroom.” Sam said.

“Alright.” Dean nodded. “Go ahead.”

Sam turned and walked into the men’s room, seeing the strange man leaning against a wall.

“Whoever you are…stay away from me.” Sam growled. “Unless you have a death wish.”

“What? Dean hasn’t noticed me, Sam.” The man said.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

“Friend of Bobby Singer. Name’s Tripp. We’ve been looking for you for a while, Sam. Trying everything to get you away from that demented brother of yours.”

Sam felt a wave of emotion crash into him hearing Bobby’s name.

“He…he didn’t stop looking for me?”

“Nope.” Tripp said. “He hasn’t. Dean’s been killing innocents…and he killed a hunter. I’m gonna get you away from him, Sam.”

“OK.” Sam said, trying to hold his emotions back. If Dean saw him, he’d get suspicious and that was the last thing Sam needed right now, especially when he was close to freedom.

“Do you think you can hold on for a few more days, Sam? We need to get a safe house prepped for you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sam nodded. “I…I have to go. Dean’ll be…”

“Looking and waiting…I got it. Go, Sam. Just hold on, OK?”

“OK.” Sam said, joy and hope filling his heart. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

This nightmare was going to end.

Tripp quickly slipped something deep in Sam’s pocket.

“Keep that phone hidden. It gives me a trace on where you’ll be, and I can keep in contact with you. Don’t contact anyone but me, even if you want to.”

“Got it. Thank you, Tripp.” Sam said, turning and leaving out the restroom. He saw Dean with food in his hand, and Sam gave him a smile that wasn’t hard to fake.

Sam was going to be free.

 

After Sam left, Tripp called Bobby quickly with the news.

“Tripp? Tripp, what is it?” Bobby asked.

“Bobby, I found Sam Winchester.” Tripp said.

“What? Where? How is the boy? How does he look?” Bobby asked, questions firing out of his mouth.

“Bobby…calm down. Sam’s looking good, despite the situation he’s in. I’m calling you so you’re in the loop. Sam has a phone I can track. I told him that we need a few days to set up a safe house, and I told him not to contact anyone besides me. That way no one else will get hurt if this goes south.”

“Tripp…thank you.” Bobby said, and Tripp could hear the emotion in Bobby’s voice.

“Hey, everything’s gonna be OK. We’re gonna get Sam out, and we’ll…we’ll put Dean down.”

Bobby was silent on the other side.

“You there, Bobby?” Tripp asked.

“I am. It’s just hard to think of killing Dean.” Bobby said.

“I understand, but it’s the only way to keep Sam safe. To keep innocent people safe.”

“I know.”  Bobby said. “Just get Sam out of there.”

“Will do, Bobby.” Tripp said.

 

When Sam got home, he felt happier. Almost like he was a brand new person.

_In a few days, you practically will be._

“Sammy…you seem giddy.” Dean said. Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s up?”

“I think the fresh air did me good. Thank you for letting me help you with the groceries.” Sam said, turning to face Dean.

Dean walked over to Sam, and pressed a gentle kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam winced on the inside with what he was going to do, but if it helped trick Dean…so be it.

Sam kissed Dean back, which caught Dean off guard.

“Sammy!” Dean said, eyes wide. A grin grew on his face, and Sam’s stomach churned at it, knowing that if Dean found out the truth, if Dean found out he was being played, and this came crashing down…Sam was in trouble. And Tripp would be dead meat.

Sam gave a small smile, and Dean dropped the groceries he was carrying, hands curling around the nape of Sam’s neck, and he planted a another kiss against Sam’s mouth, pressing the younger man against the wall.

“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.” Dean murmured happily. “My love. My baby boy. Mine.”

As sick as this was making Sam, he pushed forward, keeping the charade up as well as he could.

“Wanna fuck you Sam. Get those clothes off, and on our bed.”

Sam moved away from Dean and to the bedroom door. When he was on the bed, he tossed his clothes in a pile, the jeans on the bottom of the pile to stay out of Dean’s line of site.

He sat in the middle of the bed and watched Dean strip, grabbing the lube when he was done, and Sam was almost certain he was about to throw up for doing this.

_You have to pretend. You’ll be out of here soon. Just remember…you don’t want this. You never have. You never will. And soon, you won’t have to deal with it._

Sam spread his legs, and Dean crowded Sam’s room.

“Oh, Sammy, baby. I need to take you out on the town more if this is how you’ll be.” Dean said, rubbing his erection against Sam. “Gonna give you a quick fuck, cause I gotta get to work soon.” Dean said.

He pressed kiss after kiss against Sam’s neck and he trailed lubed fingers down to Sam’s hole, pressing one inside.

Sam’s breathing stuttered as Dean opened him up, and Sam tried to focus on Tripp and his promises. On Bobby. Maybe he would see Bobby soon once he was out.

Sam was ripped from his thoughts when Dean pressed eager fingers against his prostate, and he gave a soft moan at the feeling of Dean rubbing against it.

“Dean…” Sam gasped, looking over at his brother.

Dean had a wide grin on his face. “Bet that feels good, huh, Sammy?” Dean said, scissoring and stretching.

Sam’s head dropped back on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as Dean worked him open. If he watched Dean, he was going to be sick.

 _Rescue is coming_.

That’s what ran through Sam’s head as Dean fucked him.

 

When Dean left for work, Sam silently cleaned himself and got dressed, putting away the groceries that he and Dean had bought.

Then he curled up on the bed, trying to ignore the used feeling that he had whenever Dean fucked him.

A buzzing started up and he pulled out the phone, seeing what he was assuming was Tripp’s number.

“Sam! I just saw Dean by himself in town. Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “I am.” He felt a happy feeling grow in him, being able to talk to someone that wasn’t Dean.

“Have you tried to escape while Dean’s out?”

“No. I’m pretty sure he’s got some wards or something set up while he’s out.” Sam said, then a sinking feeling started to grow in him. “How am I going to get away if he has the place warded?”

“We’ll figure something out, Sam. I’ll talk to Bobby. You just hang in there, alright? I think I have a safe house we can keep you in, but just give me a day to settle everything, OK, kid?”

“Yeah…yeah, OK.” Sam said, some of the hope from before leaving.

“Sam. We’re gonna get you out and away from Dean. I swear it.”

“OK.” Sam whispered.

“Don’t lose hope Sam. I have to go, alright. I’ll text you next time, just keep the phone in your pocket.”

“Alright.” Sam said. “Goodbye.”

“Chat to you later.” Tripp said before hanging up. Sam put the phone back in his pocket and lied down again, thinking about finally escaping and being free.

 

Sam did all the usual things he did before Dean got home. Eat, read, watch a little TV, and read some more. He stayed away from the basement, knowing that it would only smell of death.

He had snuck in there one time, just to see what it was like, and he regretted it ever since.

 

_The room reeked of death, and as Sam looked around, he grew sicker. Blood was splattered on the floor, dried. The sink was stained, the chair in the middle of the room was stained._

_Sam saw a table, and he looked at it, seeing drops and small puddles of blood, and he realized that Dean carved his victims up before he killed them. That was what all of this was for._

_Sam backed away and fell to his knees, throwing up._

_Dean had rushed downstairs._

_“Sam! Fuck, you’re not supposed to be down here!” Dean said, rubbing circles on Sam’s back, trying to calm his brother down._

_Sam heaved until there was nothing left in his stomach, and he dry heaved a few times after, shaking._

_Dean lead Sam back up to the room, forcing the younger Winchester to slowly take in liquids._

_“No more going down in the basement, Sam.” Dean ordered._

Sam hadn’t gone down in the basement ever since.

Sam sighed, and looked around the house he’s been stuck in for the last six months.

He was getting out of here. The thought made him smile, and Sam sighed getting up.

He remembered about the possible wards that Dean may have left and Sam started to try to look around for anything suspicious.

By the time that Dean came back, he hadn’t found any, but Sam refused to let himself be disheartened.

For another night, Sam faked enjoying spending the time he did with Dean, and Dean went to sleep extremely happy.

 

In the early morning, Sam went to the bathroom, taking a piss, before going back to bed. He was about to crawl back in the bed, when he heard a soft buzzing.

Panicking, he answered it before Dean woke up and he saw the text.

_We have a safehouse for you. Away from Dean. Text when he goes out for work. –Tripp_

Sam almost cried with joy. He was getting out. _He was getting out_.

And he would be free.

 

Sam was in a happier mood that morning, something Dean noticed.

“What’s got you so happy?” Dean asked, as he made some breakfast for the two of them.

“Just feeling happy today. Like today is gonna be a good day.” Sam said.

Dean thought about it and grinned. “Alright then.” He said, turning back to cooking.

 

When Dean left, Sam rushed into the bedroom to grab the phone Tripp gave him, texting the man that Dean was leaving for work.

_Alright. Hang tight, and we’ll get you out._

Sam grinned and moved back to the living room, sitting on couch, and watching the window for Tripp.

 

When he saw a blue pickup truck, Sam was at the window, like an excited five year old. He looked at the door, wondering about what Dean might have placed, and he sighed, deciding just to say _fuck it._

He watched Tripp step out of the truck, and Bobby followed him from the passenger side.

“Bobby!” Sam yelled excitedly. Sam ran to the door and took a deep breath, yanking the door open.

He saw Bobby and Tripp stand in the driveway, and Sam was filled with joy, seeing the older hunter. Bobby took a few steps forward, almost in disbelief that he was actually staring at Sam.

Sam looked around at the door frame, and over at Bobby.

Sam shut his eyes, and stepped past the door frame.

 

Dean was at the garage when he felt the tingling in his pocket.

He reached in and pulled out the little charm, telling that Sam was leaving the house without his permission.

“Sammy?” Dean murmured, wanting to think that maybe it was someone trying to kidnap Sam, instead of Sam trying to leave on his own.

Dean got back in the Impala and started the drive back to the house.

 

Sam felt a slight tingle shoot through his body and he knew Dean did something.

“We need to go!” Sam said, opening his eyes. “Dean knows that I’m out of the house. He’ll be on his way back!”

He ran down the steps of the porch, while Bobby and Tripp dashed back into the blue pickup truck, Sam sitting in the back.

Tripp drove out of the driveway and quickly down the road in the other way.

Bobby turned back to look at Sam, and he gave a soft smile.

“It’s good to see ya again, Sam.”

“Good to see you too, Bobby.” Sam said.

Tripp’s engine roared as he sped down the road, and away from the house.

 

Dean could see the tire tracks on the gravel, and the door was left open, and Dean yelled angrily, pounding against the steering wheel.

He stormed out of the Impala and went into the house, seeing everything was in place.

“Sam!” Dean yelled. “ _Sam!_ ”

Dean growled, and turned back around, going to the Impala, getting in and driving off.

“I told you Sam…” Dean muttered under his breath. “…you belong to me. And nothing is gonna stand in my way from you.”

 

Sam, Bobby, and Tripp were well off, and the only time that they lightened up on speed was when they were around places that they could get pulled over.

But they didn’t let up until Tripp pulled up to a small house.

“This is my place. We can take a breather here, before we move on to the safe house for you.” Tripp said.

The three moved in, and Sam sat down on a couch quietly.

Bobby moved over to him, and slowly sat down by the younger man.

“Sam?” Bobby asked softly.

Sam shook and shut his eyes, trying to control all of the emotions running through his body.

“Sam?” Bobby asked again.

“Bobby…” Sam whispered softly. “I’m…I’m not imagining this, right?” Sam asked, opening his eyes and looking at Bobby. “This is happening.”

“Yeah, son.” Bobby nodded. “This is real. We got you out.”

Sam’s eyes watered and his lower lip quivered, before he gripped Bobby and broke down, sobbing.

Bobby held Sam, and didn’t say anything as Sam let everything out.

Tripp gave the two the space they needed, moving off to do other things.

When Sam finally calmed down, he stilled, sniffling and taking heavy breaths.

“Feeling a little better?” Bobby asked.

“Not that much.” Sam chuckled, pulling back and wiping his face. “But that’s beside the point.”

“Beside the point?” Bobby asked. “Your feelings are the point. You’re the point, Sam.”

Sam looked at Bobby like he was about to cry again.

“I’m free.” Sam murmured, almost to himself.

“You are, Sam. And we’re gonna make sure that you stay safe.”

Sam nodded, and his head shot around quickly, hearing Tripp walk back in.

“Sam?” Bobby asked.

“Sorry…” Sam said, turning away. “I’m used to hearing when Dean would walk in.”

“It’s fine, Sam.” Bobby said. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

“Right.” Sam nodded.

Tripp handed Bobby a beer and Sam a glass of water, and Sam only stared at it in his hands.

Bobby and Tripp watched Sam, and Bobby’s grip tightened on his beer.

“It’s just water?” Sam asked, barely a sound.

“Yeah, Sam.” Tripp nodded. “Just water.”

Sam gave a nod, and slowly forced himself to take a drink of the liquid.

“Now what do we do?” Sam asked, after taking a couple of gulps of water, silently deeming it safe.

“We get you over to the safehouse. There’s a retired hunter couple there by the names of Bill and Joan. They’ll help take care of you. Get you some work, and try to get you back into a normal life.”

Sam nodded and looked up at Tripp. “Thank you.” Sam said.

“Don’t mention it.” Tripp said. Sam stayed near Bobby until the three left, heading out to the safehouse.

 

When they got there, Sam slowly moved to the house.

Now that the initial shock that he was away from Dean was over, Sam started flinching at anyone who moved near him, and unless it was Bobby, he would pull away if anyone tried to touch him, and even then it was hard for Bobby to touch him.

“Sam, it’ll be OK.” Bobby murmured.

“Can’t help it. Sorry.” Sam said.

“Nothing to be sorry about.” Bobby said as he knocked on the door. They heard an _enter_ and the three walked inside the house.

It was homey and happy, and it smelled clean.

Bobby and Tripp watched as Sam looked around, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and spices, and they watched as Sam slowly started to relax.

“Hey there, Sam.” Joan said, walking out into the hall. “We’re just making some food and sweets. You want something?”

Sam shook his head, and looked down shyly, still not completely opening up.

“That’s fine.” Joan said softly. “You want something, all you have to do is ask.”

Sam nodded, and Joan gave a warm smile.

Bill walked out and looked at the people around them.

“This Sam Winchester?” Bill asked.

“It is.” Tripp said.

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Bill said, extending his hand. Sam flinched again, but forced himself to shake Bill’s hand.

Sam pulled his hand away quickly, and Bill gave a soft nod.

“How about you go help Joan, Sam? I bet she would love the help.” Bill said.

Sam turned and looked at Joan, and she gave a nod and a big smile.

“I’d love the help.” Joan said. Sam looked back at Bobby, and Bobby nodded.

“Go on and help her, Sam.” Bobby said. “We’re gonna be out in the den.”

“OK.” Sam said softly, following Joan into the kitchen.

 

Bobby, Tripp, and Bill went into the den and sat down.

“What are we gonna do about Dean?” Bill asked. “He’s gonna be on the hunt for his brother.”

Bobby sighed, and shook his head. “We have to stop him. He won’t stop hunting for Sam, and people are gonna get hurt in the process. As much as it kills me inside…we have to take down Dean. I won’t have Sam living in fear anymore.”

Tripp and Bill nodded.

“He’s gonna keep hidden, and God knows what he’ll use to find Sam.” Tripp said.

Bobby sighed. “Which means that we need to stay five steps ahead. I let Sam down for the past six months by not getting to him in time. I’ll be damned if it happens again.”

 

Everything was silent as Dean drove down the road.

The only thing on his mind was Sam. He was gonna get him back. He was gonna make him stay.

Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened, as he thought about how happy and willing Sam had been over the past few days.

_Was it a trick? Was it a ruse? Did Sam fool you to hide the fact that he was going to escape?_

The answer that came to Dean’s mind was _yes_.

Dean roared in anger as he zoomed down the road.

Sam was nowhere to be seen and neither was the car that Sam left in.

Which meant that Sam had outside help. Sam hadn’t been in contact with that many people while he and Sam were together, so only one man came to Dean’s mind when he thought about whom could have helped Sam escape.

_Bobby. Singer._

That meant that Dean was going to hunt him down.

And Dean was going to find his Sammy.

 

Bobby and Tripp had long since left, and Sam was sitting quietly in the den. Bill was with Joan in the kitchen, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts.

He thought about the last six months. He thought about Dean.

Dean was going to be angry. Dean was going to find Sam.

Dean was going to make him stay when he caught him again.

Dean was going to hurt people. Dean was going to kill.

“No!” Sam cried out, curling in on himself. “No…” He whimpered.

Sam heard footsteps and suddenly Bill and Joan were in the den.

“Sam?” Joan asked softly. “Sam, what’s wrong?”

Sam whimpered, head pressed against his knees, hands linked behind his neck.

“Sam?” Joan asked again, taking a hesitant step forward.

“Don’t.” Sam whispered. “Just. Don’t.”

“Alright, Sam.” Joan said.

 

The first night was rough for Sam. He kept expecting to see Dean move around the corner, with the smile he always had. He kept expecting everything to suddenly get ripped away from his hands, like life seemed to do to him.

The Winchester’s never had that much luck. So why should he get a break?

Dinner was silent, with Joan and Bill occasionally talking about their lives before. Sam would just listen and nod.

The couple stayed far away about talking about Sam’s life, and Sam didn’t mind that.

 

When Sam went to bed, he looked around at his new room.

It was different than the one before with Dean. The bed was so much smaller, but there wasn’t any Dean, and no whispers and promises of sex, which comforted Sam slightly.

He moved forward, and sat down on the bed carefully. It felt comfortable, looked comfortable. Sam lied down on it, gripping the pillow under his head.

A knock came from the door, and Sam jumped.

“Sorry, kid.” Bill said, holding his hands up in peace. “Just was seeing how you were settling down.”

“I’m…I’m OK…I guess.” Sam said, glancing over at Bill, voice still soft. “Umm…thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Sam. You need me or Joan, were right down the hall. Do ya…do ya want the door open or closed?”

“Open!” Sam said, louder, eyes wide in fear. Bill realized that he must have triggered something, and he nodded.

“Open. It’ll stay open.  No worries.”

Sam felt his heart racing, and he forced himself to calm down. Dean wasn’t going to pop out of nowhere, and Bill wasn’t planning on locking Sam in the room.

“Sorry.” Sam whispered softly.

“Sam, you have nothing to be sorry about. Not your fault.” Bill said. “Have a good night.”

Sam nodded, and watched Bill leave before he crawled under the sheets.

 

Sam had three nightmares that night, all involving Dean. He woke up screaming from each one, with Bill and Joan in his room, trying to calm him down.

 

Dean cruised down the road silently. No music was playing, no other cars were on the road. It was just Dean, the silence around him, and the purr of the Impala as he sped down the road.

He glanced at the empty passenger seat, the place that Sam belonged in. The place that Sam wasn’t in at the moment. Dean’s grip on the wheel tightened, but he kept his cool.

“Sammy…I’m coming for you.” Dean whispered into the night. “You shouldn’t have tried to run.”

 

The next day was rough for Sam, he was never sure what to do. On the days that Dean stayed home, Dean would be the one that took charge of things. Dean always had everything planned and nothing would deviate.

Bill was at work, but Joan was letting Sam be, so he usually ended up watching her from the corner of the room she was in.

“Sam?” Joan asked softly.

Sam’s eyes turned towards the woman and she gave a soft, sad smile.

“Sam, something on your mind?”

“No.” Sam said softly, shaking his head.

“Do you want to do something? I have some things that you can read. You can watch TV. You can-”

“Those sound lovely. But no thank you.” Sam said, looking down at the floor and toeing at it.

“Do you want to go out?” Joan asked.

Sam looked up at that.

“Did…Dean…ever let you out a lot?”

Sam shook his head. “Whenever Dean let me outside…he was…umm, he was always with me. Always…always by my side.” Sam said.

“I see.” Joan murmured. “There’s a park, close by. You can go for a walk. We can have a picnic, you can be outside to your heart’s content.”

“C-can we?” Sam asked, sounding too hopeful. Joan’s heart ached for the innocence the boy had lost, but she smiled and nodded.

“We can, Sam. Wanna help me make some food for the picnic. Tell me what your favorite foods are, and I’ll see if I can whip them up.”

Sam swallowed the lump that was in his throat, as he tried to keep calm over the sweetness that Joan was giving him. He followed her into the kitchen, and the two started pulling out items to make for a picnic.

 

When they did get to the park, Sam was beaming, getting out and seeing new things, which he hadn’t done in a long time.

Joan and Sam sat down on a blanket and they ate and chatted about Joan, or the park.

Sam was able to wander freely, without having to worry about someone being behind him constantly, and Joan smiled as Sam slowly opened up for the day, becoming more carefree than before.

Sam met a couple of Joan and Bill’s friends, who were curious as to whom Sam was.

“Bill’s nephew.” Joan lied with ease. “Sam is Bill’s nephew.”

Sam gave what he hoped what a pleasant smile, and nodded.

The group talked and Sam slowly relaxed again, before the group finally left.

“Having a pleasant day so far, Sam?” Joan asked.

Sam nodded. “I am.” He said. His voice was still soft, but Joan could see the changes that being outside had done for Sam, and she was happy.

 

Bobby and Tripp sighed, as they lounged in Bobby’s den, a beer in hand, as the talked.

“We’re gonna need to start alerting hunters of Dean. With Sam away from him…no telling what he might do.” Tripp said.

“I know.” Bobby replied. “Damn it. As messed up as that boy is, it’s gonna hurt like shit killing him.”

“You don’t have to be the one that does it.” Tripp said.

“I do. I’ve known the Winchesters for most of Sam and Dean’s lives. Ever since their daddy was involved in this business, I was there for them when they needed it. Why I didn’t notice…God only knows.”

“Maybe you didn’t want to notice.” Tripp said. “No one really would. No one would want to admit that something is wrong.”

“I should’ve. Maybe we wouldn’t have been in this mess if someone had noticed early on.” Bobby said, downing another part of his beer. “We should start alerting hunters.”

“On it.” Tripp nodded.

 

When the day was almost over, Sam and Joan had finally gone back to the house, where Bill was waiting.

“Have a nice day out?” He asked.

“We did.” Joan said. “And if anyone asks, Sam’s your nephew.”

“Fair enough.” Bill said. “Glad you had a good time, Sam.”

Sam nodded, looking more relaxed than the day before.

“May I…may I watch some TV?” Sam asked, slightly timid.

“You can do whatever you please, Sam.” Bill said.

Sam nodded and left to watch something.

Bill gave a sigh. “Still really quiet.”

“More open than before though. I think we should try to help him get some work soon. Might help him more.”

Bill nodded. “I agree.”

 

_“Sammy…Sammy, where are you? Sammy…gonna find you. Where are you? Sam, you’ve been a very naughty boy. Naughty boys get punished. I’m gonna have to punish you. Sam. Sammy…Sam!”_

Sam woke up from his nightmare, panting and sobbing.

“Sam! Hey, kid. Calm down. Just a bad dream. It’s only a bad dream.” Bill soothed softly. “Nothing’s gonna get you here.” He said.

Sam just cried, curling up on himself. Bill looked down at Sam, sadly, trying to sooth the boy, and wishing he could chase those nightmares away.

 

The next day, when Sam woke, Bill and Joan sat him down at the table.

“Sam, what do you think about having a job?” Joan asked.

“A…job?” Sam asked. “What type? Something around the house? If…if I have to keep up maintenance or-or something, then-”

“Sam.” Bill interrupted. “We’re talking about an actual job. Somewhere you can work. Keep you busy. Keep your mind off of…things.”

“Oh.” Sam said, brain processing what the offer promised. He smiled softly. “I’d like that. Like it a whole lot.”

“That’s great.” Joan said. “Do you think you have anything in mind of work?”

“Umm…” Sam said, freezing, trying to think of what he could be qualified for. “I…I don’t really know…umm…maybe a…library?” He asked hopefully.

“I think that would be a wonderful place for you, Sam.” Joan said, voice encouraging. Sam’s smile grew, and it warmed the couple’s hearts.

“How ‘bout you and me go and check it out when we get cleaned up?” Bill said.

“I’d like that a lot.” Sam nodded. “T-thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, Sam. Anything to help you out.” Bill said.

Sam nodded, settled a little more in his seat as he started to eat breakfast with the two.

 

When both Bill and Sam were ready, they left the house, and drove down to the public library, with Sam having wide eyes, looking around at the scenery like a small child.

Bill parked the car, and the two got out.

“Just remember, you’re my nephew, if anyone asks.”

“Got it.” Sam nodded.

The two walked into the building and Sam looked around, taking in the sights and smells, and Bill knew that this would be good for the boy.

“Come on, Sam. Let’s see if we can get you a job.” Bill said.

 

“I’ll pick you up at the end of my shift, alright, Sam?” Bill said.

“Alright.” Sam nodded, grinning from ear to ear. Sam looked at peace in the library, and he watched Bill drive away. Sam laughed, finally thinking that maybe, _just maybe_ , his life would be OK.

He walked inside, and over to where the stack of returned books were.

“Get them all back in their proper places.” The older librarian ordered. “Afterwards, I’ll get someone to start teaching you how to use the check out for books.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded, eagerly, taking an arm full of books and starting to put them back their areas.

He hummed softly, before he stopped himself, realizing that he was humming something by _Led Zeppelin_.

“No. I can start making my own memories with this music.” Sam murmured to himself as he sorted. “I can. I can.”

_Can you?_

“I think so.” He said softly. “I hope so…”

 

Dean continued his journey towards Bobby’s place when he saw the car following him.

“Fuckers are out to get me, huh? Nice.” Dean said, driving as normal. He kept small glances in his rear-view and side mirror, watching the small navy blue car follow him. Dean casually turned in the road, and put the car in park, getting out quickly and hiding down beneath the car.

When the other car got closer, and stopped behind the Impala, the hunter got out. A sweet looking girl, and Dean sighed.

_Shame she’s gonna die._

The girl started looking around the car and at the woods on each side of the road.

“The fuck…” She muttered, before Dean pulled out a gun and shot her in the arm. She cried out and started pulling out her own weapon. Dean shot her again, moving out from under the car, and grinning, shooting her again.

She dropped and Dean pulled out his knife, putting his gun away.

“Fuck you.” The girl grunted softly.

“Nah. That’s for my brother.” Dean said, slicing her throat quickly.

He dragged the bleeding girl into the woods, not remotely caring about the blood trail. He got back to the Impala, and grabbed the salt and gas he always kept in the back, and poured it over the body before lighting her up.

If a fire happened, who cared? All evidence except for the girl’s bones would be long gone and Dean didn’t really give two shits, because no normal police authority would figure out who killed the girl.

Dean drove the girl’s car near the burning body, hoping that the car would explode from it, and he drove off in the Impala, going back to his destination of getting Bobby.

 

Sam’s first day went better than he expected. When Bill came to pick him up, he was grinning brightly.

“How was it Sam?” Bill asked.

“It was good. Real good.” Sam said, getting in the truck with Bill, and they drove off, back to the house, chatting about what Sam did at work, or what Bill did at work.

When they told Joan, she was thrilled.

“I’m glad you’ve had such a good time, Sam. I’m glad you found something for yourself.”

“Couldn’t have done it without both of your help.” Sam said.

“We’re glad to be able to help.” Joan assured. “Now, let’s get some food in you two.”

Sam nodded, and helped Joan set the table, livelier than before. Something that Joan and Bill were more than thrilled about.

 

When Sam went to bed, Joan and Bill were watching the news, seeing the accident that was being reported about.

“….burst into flames on the highway, almost causing a large forest fire.” The news reporter said. “Once the flames were gone, police and firemen found a charred body, and the blood trail that led to it.”

“Oh my god…” Joan said.

“Work of a hunter.” Bill said, watching the scene. “Wouldn’t be anything else.”

“Is it Dean?” Joan asked.

“Just might be.”

“Should we tell Sam?”

“I don’t know.” Bill said. “I really don’t.”

 

Sam only had one nightmare that night.

 

When Sam was up the next day, he learned of a car crash near the highway.

“Was anyone hurt? Did anyone die?” Sam asked.

“There was one casualty.” Bill said. “They think the body was a young woman.”

“Think?” Sam asked.

“Weren’t sure. There was a fire with it, and the body was burnt badly.”

“Oh.” Sam said. “I see.”

“We should get to work.” Bill said.

“Yeah, we should.” Sam nodded, going off.

“We might need to tell him.” Joan said.

“Not yet. He wouldn’t be able to handle it. He would break. And that boy has been broken so much already.” Bill said.

“I know.” Joan said softly.

 

Tripp was driving down the road, planning to talk to Bobby about the death of the hunter when a black car passed him.

Tripp paled when he saw the car, recognizing it automatically.

“Bobby…Bobby!” Tripp called, urgently.

“What?” Bobby asked, answering his phone.

“Get the fuck outta there, Singer. Now! I fucking saw the Impala.”

“What?” Bobby’s voice was soft, and Tripp knew he was pale, hearing the news that Tripp was giving him.

“You heard me, Bobby! Dean is on his way. I’m gonna try to get past him and I’ll wait for him at your place. But you get out.”

“Tripp, I gotta…”

“No. Dean’s angry, and he isn’t gonna be thinkin’ straight. Let me at least capture him. You can do the rest if you want to.”

Bobby sighed, making a frustrated noise.

“If that boy kills another person…” Bobby trailed off.

“We won’t let him.” Tripp said.

“OK.” Bobby said softly.

Bobby hung up and dashed out of his house, getting in his truck and taking off in the opposite direction, while Tripp zoomed after Dean.

 

Dean had barely noticed the car that passed him, but now that he saw it at Bobby’s Salvage, he growled, hands tightening on the steering wheel. Bobby wasn’t here, but someone was.

Which meant Bobby had help, and only God knew who else was hiding Sam from him.

That also meant that it was interrogation time.

He thought about doing it in Bobby’s place, but no. That would be saved for Bobby himself.

Whoever this fucker was, was going to be killed somewhere else. Somewhere no one would find the body. Dean would make sure of that.

Dean pulled the Impala away like he would have with Bobby.

No use in alerting the other hunter that he knew what was going on.

Dean got out, keeping a syringe in his pocket, his knife in his jacket, and a gun strapped to his side. He was going to knock this fucker out. And he was going to find Sammy.

Dean was casually walking, eyes and ears open for any sound or movement.

He saw something from the corner of his eyes, and a soft smirk came on his face, but still he kept his walk.

The softest scuff of a shoe came to Dean’s ear and he spun, punching as hard as he could.

The crunch he heard was the most satisfying thing that he heard in a while.

“Motherfucker!” The man shouted.

Dean yelled and pounced on the man, and the man started blocking off Dean, blood pouring from his nose.

“Think you can just take Sammy from me?” Dean roared in anger. “He’s my life!” Dean shouted. “You took my life from me!”

Dean started throwing punches until he was starting to get the upper hand. He kept his eyes open for any counter strike that the hunter would make, and when he saw that he might lose his upper hand, he pulled his gun and, without hesitation, shot the hunter in each leg.

“Fuck!” The hunter yelled.

Dean put his gun away, pulling out his knife, and pressing it to the man’s throat, before he started pulling out the man’s things.

“Gun...might keep that. ID…nice to meet you Tripp. Fake ID’s…oohh, a cell phone. That’s a keeper.” Dean pocketed the cell and took the rest of Tripp’s things away.

Tripp tried to move, and he winced from the pain in his face and legs, and the tightening of the blade on his neck.

Dean pulled out the syringe and Tripp eyed it.

“Won’t do me any good to have you dead.” Dean said, suddenly terrifyingly calm. “Not when my poor little Sammy is still out there.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.”  Tripp growled.

Dean laughed, loud and clear. “Keep that up, and I might cry, from laughing so hard.” Dean grinned. “You’re funny. Shame that you will end up dying soon enough.”

“And I rather be dead then betray Bobby and Sam.” Tripp said.

“Really…you should stop.” Dean said, face growing blank. “Because nothing is gonna keep me from Sam.” Dean said, seriously. “And if you think that your stupid hunter ass is gonna stop me, then you’ve got another thing coming for you. You may have been in the hunter game longer than me, but I’ve tortured people longer than you have.”

Dean pierced the needle in Tripp and pressed down on the plunger, watching the sedative sink in.

He pulled it free and watched the drug do its magic, and before long, Tripp was out cold.

Dean pulled him into the pickup truck and got the Impala behind it, attaching it to the back, before he took off, looking for a nice secluded place to have an interrogation.

 

Sam was working happily at his brand new job, meeting new people, and growing comfortable in the atmosphere.

He was trying not to think about what Bill and Joan told him. The poor girl….

Sam shook his head, clearing it from the unhappy thoughts. If he could keep up the work the library gave, Sam felt that it would be practically therapeutic for him.

He silently watched a story time session for little kids play out, and he smiled softly, seeing all of their faces so alight with pleasure and wonder.

“Adorable, isn’t it?” A girl asked, standing by Sam.

“Hmm? Oh…yeah…really adorable.”

“Name’s Nicole, but everyone calls me Nicki.” The girl said, extending her arm.

“Sam.” Sam smiled, taking her hand and shaking it.

“Nice to meet you. Guessin’ you’re new.”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded.

“That’s cool.”

“Nicki!” Someone called in a whisper.

“Gotta go, see you later Sam.” Nicki said, before disappearing.

“Yeah…see you…” Sam said, watching Nicki leave.

Sam chuckled softly, glancing back at the kids before moving onto work again.

 

Dean had found some empty warehouse, and had used it eagerly, happy to see lighting still worked in the place.

He had tied Tripp down to a box, keeping him in place, and patiently waited for the man to wake up.

Once he did, Dean stayed in the shadows, while a light shone down on Tripp.

“So this is what you’re doin’?” Tripp asked, voice slurred as some of the drug still ran through his system. “Come on an’ face me like a fuckin’ man!” Tripp yelled.

Dean moved from the shadows to Tripp’s view. “Why are all hunters so goddamn fearless?”

“And you aren’t?” Tripp asked.

“Touche. But I’m not an average hunter.”

“You’re not even a hunter.” Tripp growled.

“Now, don’t say that.” Dean said, moving beside Tripp. “I’m still a hunter. Just not a monster killing one.”

“You’re a sick, and sadistic bastard. That’s what you are.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you are.” Dean said. “I mean, you helped take my whole fucking world from me. Only a sick, sadistic bastard would do that.”

“Right. And keeping Sam locked up in that house was healthy.”

Dean smacked Tripp before he could stop himself.

“You don’t talk about my brother.” Dean growled. “Not unless you want me to cut out your tongue.”

“That’ll make it kinda hard for me to talk then.”

“I’ll be able to deal with that.” Dean said. He moved away and grabbed a pair of shears, bringing them back over and starting to cut away Tripp’s clothing.

“Didn’t realize that the bastard was a kinky fucker.”

“I just need a canvas to work on. Can’t work on one if shit’s in the way.” Dean said, ripping and tearing away pieces.

When Tripp was bare for Dean, Dean grabbed one of his blades.

“You have one single chance before I start carving. Where did Sam go?” Dean asked.

“How about you rot in Hell?” Tripp growled.

“Bitch, I’m going to go there when I die.” Dean said. “I’ve accepted that fact. But I will be damned if I don’t have the most fulfilled time before I go. And oh, look, you just lost the one chance of a slightly less painful death. That’s gonna suck for you.”

Dean started to trail the blade around lightly, before he pierced Tripp’s skin, listening to the hunter grunt in pain.

“This’ll be fun.” Dean said, starting to slice.

 

Dean kept working on Tripp until the other man couldn’t stop the screams that emitted from his mouth.

Blood was coving the man’s body, and dripping down on the box, and down on the floor.

As Dean made a slice in Tripp’s shoulder, watching the blood from their flow, Tripp spoke up.

“Please….please, oh god…” He begged.

“Please what? Stop?” Dean asked. “Tell me where Sammy is.”

“No.”

“Then I’m not stopping.” Dean said, grabbing a different blade and dragging it down Tripp’s body.

Tripp screamed, and Dean grinned.

“What…what would your….your dad…think?” Tripp panted, crying out at another slice.

“Doesn’t matter what my father would think. He’s dead.” Dean shrugged. He froze, before staring up at Tripp’s bloody face. “You wanna know what? He begged. My father _begged_ for his life. He took me out, on what was supposed to be a hunt. Said that we were gonna kill the son-of-a-bitch that was killin’ people. And I guess he was. But he was gonna do that with Sammy.”

 

_“Where’s the monster, Dad? Where’s it gonna be?”_

_“Dean. Stop.” John said, freezing and turning to Dean, hand twitching to his gun._

_“Dad?” Dean asked. “What’s goin’ on? What are you-”_

_“I said. Stop.” John said. Dean froze and watched John, alert and starting to grow tense._

_“Dad.”_

_“Dean. I know what you’re doin’.” John said. “I know about the deaths of those innocent people.”_

_“Whatcha talkin’ ‘bout Dad?” Dean asked._

_“Those innocent girls that Sam was always with. Every town that we’ve been at, someone’s died that Sam interacted with. Don’t take much to connect the puzzle.”_

_“The monsters killed ‘em Dad. What you’re implying…” Dean said, getting ready to reach for his knife._

_“I’m not implying a damn thing.” John said. “I’m tellin’ the truth. You’re killing those girls, Dean. Why?”_

_“Why?” Dean said, dropping the innocent façade. “_ Why _?” He shouted. “Because of Sammy. Those girls…they aren’t good enough for him.”_

_“And what? You know who is?”_

_“Yeah. And it’s fucking me.” Dean growled, moving quick. The two started to struggle, but Dean remembered everything that John had taught him, and a little he taught himself._

_Fists flew and both fought for control, until Dean managed to get the upper hand, and brought out his knife, slicing John._

_John cried out, and Dean watched him fall._

_“Dean…don’t do this. This ain’t right.” John grunted, trying to pull for his gun. Dean grabbed it quickly and held it at John too. “Dean…please. Don do this.”_

_“Begging Dad? Really?” Dean laughed._

_“I am Dean. I’m begging. I’m begging you don’t do this. Drop the weapons.”_

_“Then what Dad? Then what? You kill me? You tell me to go? Take my shit and leave? I wouldn’t. Not without Sammy. He’s my world.”_

_“No he’s not.” John said. “Dean…you’re sick. You need help.”_

_“Insane asylum.” Dean said. “That’s great Dad. Just great.”_

_“Dean…”_

_“No! I’m done hearing you talk!” Dean shouted._

_“Please…”_

_“Shut! Up!” Dean yelled, swiping at John._

_Red poured down, and Dean grinned._

_“I won’t get separated from Sammy. I won’t. You and no one else will stop me.” Dean said, giving the final blow, and watching his father die._

_Dean stepped back, and tossed John’s gun before he looked at his arm, and made a slice._

_He grunted in pain, but he looked roughed up enough, Sammy would believe him. Dean left without a second glance, heading back to the hotel, and Sammy._

“I’ve been there for Sammy for so long.” Dean growled at Tripp. “My dad tried to keep us separated. The cops tried to. I went through therapy session after therapy session while I was locked up. Those ‘doctors’ tried to make me forget about my brother. And now…you and Bobby. Tryin’ to keep me away. I have been fighting for my brother for fucking ever. I’ve been taking care for him for so goddamn long!” Dean yelled, getting louder.

“And raping him, keeping him a prisoner is taking care of him. Right.” Tripp said. “Got it.”

“Stop! Fucking! Talking! About! Him!” Dean screamed. “The only words I wanna hear from you if you talk about my brother is where his location is.”

“Fuck off. He’s hidden and safe. You won’t find him.”

“Fine.” Dean said, turning away and grabbing his knife. “I’ll just get Bobby to tell me.”

“You won’t. He won’t fall for that. He won’t come back. He knows you’re here.”

“I have your cell. One simple text, saying that you have me should lure him back. I already have the text in mind. ‘Can’t call you. I have Dean in my sights, but it’s dangerous to talk. Need help’. And then a simple send.”

“Hunters are gonna be after you.”

“And I’ll kill them all if I have to.” Dean growled.

He raised his arm, and took the killing blow, watching Tripp die.

“Fucker.” Dean growled. He left to the Impala, and pulled out the change of clothes he had, switching out, and starting to clean and put away his blades, before he set Tripp’s body on fire, and left with Tripp’s truck, planning to place the Impala in the place he would acting like nothing was wrong.

 

Joan was the one who answered the home phone they had.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Joan? Thank god you’re home.” Bobby said sighing.

“Bobby? What’s wrong?”

“I’m at Tripp’s house right now. Hiding out.”

“What? Why?” She asked, old hunter instincts kicking in.

“Dean. We fucked up, Joan.” Bobby said. “We thought that Dean would solely find Sam. But we didn’t realize that he might come after us.”

“Dean’s after you?” Joan asked, eyes growing wide, heart thumping.

“Tripp’s handlin’ him until we can get him sedated and held down. Then I’m gonna deal with him.”

“Bobby you need to be careful.” Joan said.

“I know.” Bobby said. “You and Bill, you two be careful, and you make sure Sam stays safe. If something happens to me…”

“Nothing will happen to you, Bobby.” Joan said.

“I hope to God you’re right.” Bobby said.

Bobby hung up and Joan dialed Bill, who wasn’t picking up.

“Damn it, man. Answer your phone.”

“Bill. I need to talk to you. It’s important. Beyond important. It’s about Bobby and Sam. Call me as soon as you can.”

Joan hung up and sighed, running her hands through her hair.

 

Sam talked to Nicki more, and helped her reach the books that even the stepping stool wouldn’t get.

“Thanks Sam.” Nicki grinned. “So…what brings you here?”

“I, uhh…I had a rough life recently.” Sam admitted, closing up a little. “Uncle Bill and Aunt Joan are…are helping me build a new life.”

“Really?” Nicki said, voice getting softer. “Is it crossing boundaries to ask what happened?”

Sam nodded, staring at the floor, trembling softly.

“Shit…I’m sorry. I…I did something…bad memories…”

“It’s…it’s fine.” Sam said.

“No it’s not. I did something that brought back bad memories. I’m sorry Sam.” Nicki said.

Sam gave another nod, glancing up at Nicki.

“If it means anything…I know how you feel. I was abused as a kid…by my parents.”

Sam looked up, and Nicki nodded.

“Yeah…took me a long time to trust people again once I got out of everything. But I managed to. I know you will too Sam. Thanks for the help.” Nicki turned and walked off, and Sam watched her, before moving on to do his own work.

 

Dean lounged in Bobby’s place, drinking some of the liquor he had.

He grinned, looking at Tripp’s phone, looking through the contacts and finding Bobby. He sent the text and sighed happily, knowing he was so close to having Sam back.

He took another drink and continued looking through contacts when he saw ‘Sam’.

“Sammy?” Dean asked softly. How did Sam have a number, if it was him. Sam didn’t even have a phone.

He  brought up the number, and dialed it, bringing the phone to his ear.

 

Sam’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out, seeing Tripp’s number.

Sam answered it and brought it to his ear. “Tripp? Tripp, is something wrong? Tripp?” Sam asked.

“Tripp? Is something up? Is something the matter?” Sam asked.

The phone hung up.

Sam looked at the phone, wondering if he accidentally dialed, and Sam sighed, shrugging.

 

_Sammy. SammySammySammy. Sammy was there. Sammy was safe. Sammy…_

Dean was so close to Sammy. Just a little while longer and he would have him again.

The phone buzzed and Dean said that Bobby answered.

_Shit, where’s Dean?_

Dean laughed and replied.

_Wandering round the house. Trying to find me. Keep hearing movement. Bobby, I need backup._

Dean sent the message, waiting for one in return.

He cackled with glee seeing the response.

_I’m on my way._

“Good. Hopefully by nightfall…I’ll have Sammy back.”

 

Bobby was dreading what he would find back at the Salvage.

He drove in and saw Tripp’s truck. And he saw the Impala.

Memories flooded back, and Bobby shook them away.

He had a job here. And no matter what he felt. He had to take care of his job.

Bobby parked, and slowly started moving to the house, pulling out his gun, and walking inside carefully.

Bobby started moving through the hall, completely alert, and eyes peeled for Dean or Tripp.

Suddenly something came crashing down on his head, and Bobby fell, before he felt something pinch in his neck.

“Nice to see ya again, Bobby.” Dean growled in his ear.

“D-Dean?” Bobby asked, feeling the drug taking effect.

“Bingo, old man.”

“Where’s….where’s….Tripp?”

“Dead. Burning. Wonder if the fire department got there yet?”

“Dean…d-don’t…do….this.”

“Too late for that. You took Sam away from me.”

“Not…not healthy…”

“I’ll decide what’s healthy for my brother.” Dean growled.

Bobby groaned and lost consciousness.

 

When Bobby woke, he was tied to a chair, down in the lower level of his house, and Dean was watching him in a chair.

“Nice to see you up Bobby.” Dean said. “Where’s Sammy?”

“Somewhere you won’t get him.” Bobby said groggily.

“We’ll see about that.” Dean laughed. “Because…I…have poor dead Tripp’s phone.” Dean grinned, pulling it out.

“Dean…”

“Shut up, Bobby. Do you have any idea what Sam means to me? I’ve killed to make sure we’re together. And I’m not afraid to do it again. Maybe I can barter you for him.”

“No. It won’t happen.”

“Everyone keeps tellin’ me ‘no’, ‘no’, ‘no’. I’m saying yes.” Dean said.

Dean got up, sticking a piece of tape over Bobby’s mouth, and he dialed up Sam’s number.

 

Sam felt the phone ringing, but he couldn’t answer at the moment, learning what the librarians wanted him to do for checking out and returning.

“Just make sure you keep with the computer and everything will be fine. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded.

“Good. I’m going to see you do the first few check outs and returns before you’ll do things on your own.”

“Got it.” Sam nodded.

 

“Hmm…seems that Sam isn’t answerin’.” Dean said, hanging up.

Bobby grumbled something around the tape and Dean ripped it off.

“What was that?”

“Probably has a job.” Bobby said. “Out in public where he should be. Ain’t healthy for him to always be cooped up.”

“Don’t talk about what’s good for Sammy, and what’s bad. I told you, I’m dealin’ with that. I’m his brother. I’ve been with him, his entire life. Almost all his life anyway. I know my brother.”

“If you know him, then why has he always been afraid Dean? Why was he always afraid of you?”

“Because he hasn’t had enough time to learn and see the love I have for him. But I’m provin’ it. By finding him. I’m gonna prove it. I love Sammy with all of my heart.”

“But does he love you?” Bobby asked.

He got smacked for that.

“Shut up, Bobby.” Dean said, and he stuck a piece of tape back on Bobby’s mouth.

 

Sam worked through his shift, forgetting about the phone call. He talked to Nicki, and she made sure to avoid talking about Sam’s past, but she always had something to talk about, and Sam loved it.

“You’re a cool guy, Sam.” Nicki grinned. “I like you.”

“You’re cool too.” Sam said, smiling, as he helped someone check out a book.

Nicki gave a small laugh, and moved off to do more work.

 

Dean debated about calling Sam again, and Bobby watched him.

Dean was rambling on about something, something that Bobby was barely paying attention to, until Dean froze and looked at Bobby.

“You hungry? I think I’m gonna make some food.”

Bobby shook his head, glaring at Dean, and Dean shrugged.

“Fine. Your loss. I’ll make extra, just in case though.”

Dean checked the bonds on Bobby, before he left.

Bobby tugged at his bonds, not feeling any yield, and he groaned, trying hard to escape.

 

The day passed by quickly and he finally got picked up and left back to the house with Bill when he remembered the call.

“Bill!” Joan yelled when the two got back.

“What?” Bill asked.

“I need to talk to you. Damn you for not having your phone on!”

“Today was a busy day.”

“This is more important than a busy day at work.” Joan said, eyes urgent.

“OK. You get out, do as you please Sam.” Bill walked in the house after Joan, and a weird feeling grew in Sam, who followed after Joan and Bill, making sure he wasn’t heard.

“…after Bobby. Going after Bobby. And I don’t know anything about Tripp.” Joan said in the kitchen.

“Where is Bobby right now?” Bill asked.

“At Tripp’s place, last I knew. Hasn’t contacted me since. Bill, I feel bad about this.”

“I do too. If Dean is going after Bobby and Tripp….”

“Dean’s after Bobby?” Sam cried, heading into the kitchen, eyes fearful. “He’s gonna kill him. Dean’s gonna kill Bobby.”

His voice was becoming panicked and Joan and Bill turned, surprised.

“Sam, listen…” Bill said.

“No! You listen!” Sam yelled. “Dean will _kill_ them. He won’t stop. People are going to die!” _Because of you. Because you ran._

“Sam, listen, Bobby and Tripp will have this dealt with.” Bill said.

“No! You haven’t been with him for most of your life! I know him better than anyone! If he’s angry enough…” Sam whimpered. “I gotta stop him.”

“Sam, no!” Joan shouted, as Sam started to turn away. Bill grabbed Sam, and Sam started tugging.

“Sam, nothing good will come from this.” Bill said.

“Let me go! I have to stop Dean! I have to! I have to, you don’t understand!” Sam sobbed, breaking down. Sam collapsed, and sobbed, and Bill and Joan knelt by him. “You don’t understand.” Sam cried.

“Sam, please. Stay here. We don’t know what’s happening. Wait for a call.” Joan begged.

Sam cried and didn’t try to pull away when Joan held him.

 

Bobby ended up having a drink forced down his throat, and Dean waited. Always waiting.

Bobby was secretly grateful Dean left the tape off, and he was treading on eggshells, knowing one wrong word and his mouth would be taped back up. Or he’d be dead.

“Will you call him again?”

“Don’t know. He’s at work. Boy’s also gotta eat.”

“He does.”

“Think he’s eating?”

“Maybe.” Bobby said.

“Hope he is.” Dean grunted, walking around. “My boy’s gotta eat.”

 

Sam had a light dinner, and he went to bed early, plagued with dreams of Dean.

Then his phone started buzzing.

Sam answered it. “Tripp?” He asked softly.

“Sammy! You’re there!”

“Dean?” Sam asked softly. “Dean…what did…no…you…where is Tripp’s body?”

“Don’t know. Burnt to a crisp though.”

“No…”

“Yep.” Dean said. Sam thought about the dead girl on the highway and he grew sick. “Guess who I have here, Sammy?” Dean asked.

“Who?” Sam asked faintly.

“Bobby!” Sam knew that Dean was grinning and suddenly there was some movement.

“Sam? Sam? That you?”

“Bobby!” Sam said. “Bobby, you’re alive!”

“Nice to hear you again Sam.” Bobby said.

“Bobby, please. I’m gonna get-” Sam started.

“Well you know that Bobby’s alive. But listen up, Sammy. I miss you. I miss you a lot. Get over here, and Bobby might not be dead.”

“Dean, don’t kill him.”

“Get over here then.” Dean said. “I miss you Sammy. I want you baby boy.”

The line went dead and Sam choked back a sob.

He listened down the hall, hearing a TV run. He knew that Joan was probably in there, but Bill might still be up. Which meant that he had to be careful.

Sam wasn’t going to let Bobby die.

He got out of the bed, and snuck down the stairs, hearing movement in the kitchen. Sam snuck over to where the keys for Bill’s car was and grabbed it as silently as he could.

He started sneaking out, and got the door open when Bill spoke.

“Sam, what are you doin’?”

“Dean….Dean has Bobby….gonna…gonna kill him. I can’t…I can’t….”

“Then we go together.”

“No. No more deaths. No more dying. I’m sacrificing myself to save people, so don’t you dare.” Sam growled.

“Sam, I won’t let you do this.”

“You aren’t stopping me.” Sam said.

“What makes you say that?”

“This.” Sam said, moving quickly, and effectively knocking Bill into unconsciousness. “I’m sorry, Bill. I wish you and Joan well.” Sam said before leaving.

 

“He won’t come.”

“He will. I know my brother.” Dean grinned. “But he doesn’t have a lot of time. I think I should just kill you. I mean, you took Sam away. Tripp’s dead. I’m sure I won’t find out who was housing Sam because I would never hurt Sammy.”

“Dean, fuck yourself.”

“I rather fuck Sam.”

“Dean…” The growl died when Dean lifted a knife, and brought it over to Bobby’s face.

“I wonder what you’d look like with red.” Dean mused softly, trailing the knife around.

 

_Don’t let Bobby be dead. Don’t let him be dead. Don’t let Bobby be dead._

Sam sobbed loudly, as he zoomed down the road.

“Don’t let Bobby be dead.” He prayed.

 

Dean had made a few marks, watching red drip down Bobby’s face.

Bobby grunted, warily watching the blade that Dean had.

“Don’t like it, huh? Should’ve thought about that when you stole Sam.”

“No one stole Sam. He wanted to leave.”

“You stole him!” Dean screamed. “You stole Sammy! My life! My world! My fucking everything! He’s mine!”

Bobby quieted down, not wanting to make Dean more pissed.

“Everyone says I’m twisted. I’m sick. Anyone who would willingly take something so important to me…they’re the sick ones.”

“Dean…”

“Don’t take Bobby. Don’t.” Dean said, moving in on Bobby again.

 

Sam got to Bobby’s place quickly, seeing the Impala, and his vision blurred as tears ran down his face.

Sam parked the car and ran into Bobby’s house.

“Dean! Bobby! Dean!” Sam yelled, looking around. “Dean!”

 

“Dean! I’m here!” Dean heard the screams and Dean stopped, watching red flow. “Dean! Please!”

“Down here Sammy!” Dean called. “Down here with Bobby!”

“No…” Bobby said.

“Shut up.” Dean said, moving to stand behind Bobby, pulling out his blade, and holding it against Bobby’s throat.

Sam ran down and froze on the bottom step, seeing Dean and Bobby.

“No…Dean, no!” Sam begged.

“Walk down.” Dean instructed.

Sam moved obediently, and stood ten feel away from Bobby and Dean.

“Walk a few feet.” Dean said.

Sam moved, and stopped. His eyes were watering, lips quivering.

“Don’t kill him. I’ll do anything Dean. Please. Please, don’t kill Bobby.”

“Why? He took you Sammy.”

“No…don’t.” Sam begged dropping to his knees. “Dean, please. Please. Please. No.”

Dean pulled the knife away, but Sam stayed on his knees, tears running down.

“I’ll do anything Dean.” Sam cried.

“Anything, huh?” Dean asked, dropping his knife and moving over to Sam, staring down at him. “My baby boy will do anything?”

Sam nodded, staring up at Dean.

“Sam, don’t do this.”

“Stay out of this, Bobby.” Dean ordered. “You’re gonna have to prove it Sammy.” Dean said. “Prove to me that you’ll do anything.”

“What do you want me to do?” Sam asked.

“Show Bobby who you belong to. Suck me off, Sammy boy.”

“Dean…” Sam said, voice catching.

“Don’t prove, and Bobby dies.”

Sam whimpered, and dropped his head.

“Sammy…I’m waiting.”

Sam lifted his head, and brought shaking hands to Dean’s fly, lowering it, and opening Dean’s pants, pulling out his cock.

“Suck, Sam.” Dean said, hands curling in Sam’s hair.

Sam opened his mouth and tried to ignore Bobby only a few feet away as he sucked on Dean’s cock, feeling Dean grow hard.

Dean started giving soft thrusts and Sam relaxed his throat, letting Dean fuck his mouth.

Sam’s eyes shut, so he didn’t have to look at anything as he did as Dean pleased.

_Bobby thinks you’re sick now._

_Because I am sick._

Sam was grateful when Dean came down his throat, and Dean pulled out, tucking himself back in.

“Go free Bobby, Sammy. On your hands and knees.”

Sam crawled over, and started freeing Bobby.

“I’m sorry Bobby. I’m sorry for being sick.” Sam whispered.

He glanced up at Bobby, seeing the blood run down his face, and Sam only saw sorrow there.

He reached up to untie Bobby’s hands, and slowly Bobby became free.

“I need to get on my knees to reach the ropes tying his chest.” Sam said.

“Then do it.” Dean replied.

Sam got up on his knees, moving to untie Bobby.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t stop this.” Bobby said, lips barely moving.

A fresh wave of tears feel down as Bobby was freed and Sam crawled back over to Dean.

Dean pulled out his gun, pointing it at Bobby. “Don’t come after us. And if I see anymore hunters, they’ll die too. I came for Sam, I got him. I wanna be left with him.”

Sam got back up and walked with Dean, look back at Bobby.

Bobby only stared as Dean and Sam left.

 

The drive back to the house was quiet, and tension was in the air.

“This might be a long drive back.” Dean said finally. “We’ll need rest in between. Stop at a few motels.”

“OK.” Sam said softly.

“Heard you had a job. What job?”

“Helped at a library.” Sam replied.

“Nice.” Dean nodded. Sam knew the question that was on the tip of Dean’s tongue.

“No. I didn’t meet anyone there.” Sam lied. He thought back to Nicki. She was so sweet to him.

“Right.” Dean said. “Guessin’ you won’t tell me where you stayed.”

Sam didn’t answer that.

There was more silence.

“Why did you leave?”

“I….” Sam broke off, voice growing thick.

“Talk, Sam.”

“I wanted some freedom. I wanted some. Dean…I…” Sam started growing upset, tears falling again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Sammy…” Dean sighed.

“Dean…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Sam cried softly. “Dean…”

“Stop saying that Sam. It’s too late for it.” Dean said.

Sam sobbed softly, head dropping, and he turned away, leaning against the door, crying softly.

The rest of the ride was silent.

 

When Dean and Sam finally got back to the house, a day and a half later, Dean brought Sam back into the room and forced him down on the bed.

Sam trembled, but didn’t fight. Dean tied him up, and sat by him, hand running through his hair.

“Gotta figure out what to do with you, Sammy.” Dean murmured, looking down at the terrified Sam.

He leaned down, pulling Sam’s head to the side, and he started making a mark on Sam’s neck, sucking and biting, making Sam cry out.

Dean lapped up the small trickle of blood that emerged and kissed against the mark.

“That’ll be temporary. I’ll figure something out to make you stay.” Dean said.

“Dean, I’ll stay.”

“Oh you will.” Dean said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Dean…please…I’ll stay. I know my place is with you.” Sam whimpered.

“Glad you know. That won’t stop me.”

“I understand.” Sam said, softly.

“Good. Though we’ve been through a lot. Let’s take a nap.”

Dean moved on the bed with Sam, and lied by him.

“Do you need some help sleeping?”

“No.” Sam said, shutting his eyes.

“Good.” Dean said.

Sam slowly fell asleep. What was worse, he didn’t have another nightmare.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small tid-bit aftermath after Dean has Sam again

Sam was lying on the bed. It had been a week, and Dean refused to leave Sam’s side, calling into his work, asking for some time off, claiming that his partner was incredibly ill, and he had to take care of him.

They had taken the bait, and it left Dean with Sam.

Dean didn’t touch Sam that much. And when they did, it was usually just a hand job or a blow job and that was it.

Right now, Dean was outside the room, and Sam could hear faint talking. Dean was excited over something, and Sam dreaded it.

When Dean came back in the room, he was grinning.

“Dean?” Sam asked, eyeing Dean.

“You’ll see, Sammy.” Dean grinned, kissing Sam’s forehead.

 

A few hours later, there was a knock on the door outside.

Dean left, shutting the door behind, and Sam moved, pressing his ear to the door and trying to listen.

Sam couldn’t understand the mumbling that he heard, and then he heard some silence, before something that sounded like a buzzing started.

“What?” Sam asked softly, backing away from the door, and onto the bed, settling on Dean’s side, so he could be far away.

He waited there in silence, until the buzzing stopped, and Sam whimpered, drawing himself up and in, wishing he could hide.

The door started to jiggle and Sam whimpered again, seeing Dean and a man walk in.

Dean’s shirt was off, and on the top of his right shoulder was a tattoo.

“Dean?” Sam asked, watching Dean grab rope, and moving over to Sam.

“It’ll be OK, Sammy. Remove your shirt.”

“Dean, no…” Sam begged, looking from the tattoo artist to Dean.

“Told you that I would find a way to make you stay. And this is gonna be that way.”

“By a tattoo?”

“You’ll see Sam. Remove the shirt before I help.”

Sam moved quickly, and Dean dragged Sam to his side of the bed, tying him down, and making sure that he stayed still.

“Alright.” Dean said. The tattoo artist got set up again, and started working, while Sam winced as the tattoo artist drew a symbol similar to Dean’s on his shoulder.

Dean kept Sam still, as the man worked, and Sam whimpered, turning away and shutting his eyes.

The buzzing stopped and a throb filled Sam’s arm. Sam thought it was over when the artist started to chant.

Sam’s head twisted back, eyes now wide, as the man, who was apparently a witch chanted in some language. Sam grunted, feeling a soft burn in his shoulder, and he watched the fresh black ink shine gold for a little bit. He looked at Dean’s and saw the same, and Sam started to dread what was happening.

“There.” The man said, finishing the chant. “You are now bonded with each other.”

“Bonded?” Sam asked.

Sam’s shoulder tingled and he shut his eyes, fighting the urge to puke.

“If he gets too far, you’ll feel it, and the spell with kick in, making him unable to move or do much of anything besides breath. Once you find him again, he’ll be back to normal.”

Sam’s stomach churned, and he swallowed back bile.

“Also, if anything happens to him. Gets hurt or sick or somethin’, it’ll the spell with alert you. It’ll be a little disconcerting at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

Sam started to control his breathing, mentally telling himself he wasn’t going to get sick.

“Great. Let’s continue this conversation elsewhere.” Dean said. The man collected his things, and the two got up. Dean untied Sam, with Dean and the artist witch walking out of the room.

Sam got up, looking at the tattoo, which had turned back to black ink.

His stomach churned again, and he started moving to the bathroom, just in case.

Then he heard the scream, and it wasn’t from Dean.

Sam almost didn’t make the toilet in time.


End file.
